


Whiskey & shoot

by Minne_My



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Canon Lesbian Character, F/F, Snooker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24237025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minne_My/pseuds/Minne_My
Summary: Mac spots a mysterious stranger over the snooker table
Relationships: Concetta Fabrizzi/Elizabeth MacMillan
Kudos: 12
Collections: Miss Fisher's Sonder Stories





	Whiskey & shoot

She spotted her straight away. How could she not, a dark stranger lurking silently amidst the hustle and bustle of the club. She’d never seen her before. She leaned forward to take her shot, willing the other woman to sear her with eye contact but she wouldn’t bite. Not yet. Not for another ten minutes, after half of another whiskey and at nearly the end of the game. They finally locked eyes over the last three balls. Elizabeth MacMillan motioned her over. The woman shook her head shyly but her would-be hostess insisted. She walked over hesitantly. Tall and statuesque, a handsome beauty indeed. Possibly Italian.

Confirmed when she spoke. Mac was charmed by her voice and reticent smile.

‘We can start a new game.’

The woman confessed that she’d never played snooker. She seemed intimidated by the concept. It was a men’s game. Mac snorted.

‘Not here it isn’t. I hope you realise there are no men to patronise us.’

‘That is the basis of the appeal’ the woman gestured around her.

Mac smiled wolfishly.

‘Correct answer. So are you going to let me teach you?’

The woman examined the table. She supposed that she would.

‘Great. Call me Mac.’ She offered her hand. She learned that her student’s name was Concetta. It didn’t seem to suit her. She looked virtuous enough but there was something smouldering under the surface. Mac’s interest was sparked. She loved a good challenge. She handed her the equipment and explained how to start, demonstrating how to glide the cue past her fingers to tap one of the balls and then to chase the balls around the table to net them.

‘It’s a game of strategy. Once you get into it, it’s fun. Calming, even.’

Concetta’s first hit tapped the ball uncertainly. Her next few shots went wide. Mac set her glass of whiskey directly in line to the next ball. Told Concetta to angle the cue right past it _(rest it against the glass if needed, it isn’t cheating for a beginner)_ and then make a move.

Concetta cried out in delight as she hit the ball firmly with a click, inching it closer to a net.

‘You’re getting there’ said Mac with a smile.

Concetta’s smile lit her up. For the next couple of tries she was hit and miss until Mac set the glass down in line and leaned in to clasp her fingers over her hand. Concetta could feel the warmth wrapping around her as Mac guided her to hit the next ball much more concisely. It stirred a feeling her that she’d never expected.

By the time they had got the last ball in the net, the others were clamouring for a new game. Mac swept up the glass and offered it to her new student who took a sip. It didn’t appeal to her. Mac downed the rest and offered to buy her whatever drink she wanted. They sat down in the comfortable armchairs and began a tentative conversation. Concetta had never met anyone like Mac before. She was wary at first, considering that she was starting to realise what kind of woman the doctor was, but as the evening wore on, she started to enjoy the attention. Mac had a way of looking at her like she was the only person in the room. It had been years since someone had noticed her, properly. Not even with Gianni, whom she had disastrously pinned her hopes on.

‘What is your Christian name?’ She enquired as they were preparing to part ways. Mac was a very unladylike moniker.

‘Elizabeth. Elizabeth MacMillan if you want to know.’

Concetta did. That explained it.

‘Don’t be a stranger. I need to take you up on a game next time.’

Concetta’s smile was expectant. She was going to throw herself in the ring and let Dr MacMillan take her.

‘Next time.’

They were looking forward to the next time.


End file.
